Before He Was Van Vilder
by Short Moose
Summary: I knew him before all the mayhem. And in a way, I sort of caused it.


I'm Karen Welter. And Coolige College is my home. Coming back from summer vacation is always a great thing for me. For one, I'm not sleeping on the couch of my Autn Betty, and another is that I get to return to my friends, or books. Though, I do have one friend. Van Wilder. I love that kid. Even when he was a freshman on that first day. Goodness, he was the pick of the crop then. Although I didn't pick him, he picked me.

See, that McDoogle teacher picked the top twenty students with the highest GPA's, and then they were picked by a group of new freshman to shadow for a while. McDoogle called the freshman alphabetically, and they would pick an elder one at random. After eighteen of the freshman had gone, I and a junior named Donald Kerr were left. The two freshman were Van, and a girl by the name of Billie Zangda, who would attempt suicide two weeks later.

"Van Wilder," McDoogle said, looking at the only boy left. I honestly thought that he would pick Donald because A: he's a guy, and B: he's the quarterback on the football team.

"Her." Van pointed to me, and I was a little surprised.

"Uh, okay." I replied wearily to him. "Common then, I guess...yeah." I turned and started to walk from the courtyard to the actual college. "So, welcome to Coolige. It's a pretty nice place, beautiful grounds, somewhat nice people. But I love it here." He followed me from the courtyard to the main building during my little speech. "Now, first things first: what's your name?" I was absolutely horrendous when it came to remembering names.

"Van Wilder, and you?" He gave me a smile.

"Karen Welter." I stuck out my hand for him as we stood in front of the main door. He shook it, and smiled again. "Okay second things second, your class schedule is your new life. If you learn anything from me, learn this: School and education come first, now and forever, alright?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Are you dorming or commuting?"

"Dorming."

"What building?"

He pulled out a piece of paper and said, "Five."

"Ah, building five." I reminiced for for a minute, then started to walk in the general direction of building five. "A lot of good times in building five. I am actually a current resident there."

"Really?" He asked, a shocked look upon his face.

"Yes. What room do you have?" I asked upon approaching the glorious building five.

"Uh," he had to look at the paper again. "Three-oh-three." I smirked.

"I'm in four-oh-three." And he laughed.

"You must be kidding me. I knew that I made the right choice in picking you instead of that guy. It was a tough decision."

My smile faded, "Right. Well, I think you can find your way from here. I'll let you be on your way then. Good bye." I turned away from him, and started for my Psychology class. The only reason I was even mad at Van was the fact the he said it was a tough decision. Tough decision?! Wow, I didn't realize that I was _that _low on the scale of anything. So, my Psychology class is boring, as are most first day classes, and I come out to find a senior messing with my freshman. Wait, did I just call Van mine? "Hey!" I called to them, rushing from the building. "What the fuck is going on?" I asked approaching them with annoyance and anger.

"This cockstain was trying to hit up on my woman." The probably steroid pumped senior had pinned Van up against a wall by the scruff of his shirt.

"Is this true, were you trying to hit on this woman?" On the outside, I was stern and mature. On the inside, I was laughing my ass off.

"No man, she was hittin' on me." He pleaded, in a manly way of course.

And then I turned back to the Senior. "See Janet, my freshman wasn't doing anything to your girlfriend; your slut of a girlfriend was probably trying to molest my freshman." I had never stood up to a senior before, and it felt good.

"Your freshman?"

"Yes, MY freshman. So back off Betsy before I make you back off!"

"Calm down, Spaz." The senior looked at me like I was crazy.

"Spaz? I'm the spaz? You're the one freaking out at the fact that your thirteen year old girlfriend was talking to another kid on the playground. I don't think I'm the spaz here. Come on, Van." I grabbed his arm and dragged him away from the surprised senior.

"Dude that was so fucking A!" He exlcaimed when we stopped back in the front courtyard. "You have to be the sickest kid on the campus!"

"Look Van, I'm only a sophomore. They," I pointed to all who were around. "Don't care what I think, or what I do. No one cares unless you make tehm care."

He wanted to prove me wrong.


End file.
